Albert's Thanksgiving Adventure

We bred Harley last spring to Mark's dog, Jake. Her pups came on July 6th--and July 7th after a C-section. Only two survived, a male and a female. We came ridiculously close to keeping them both but sanity won out and we kept the female, bringing our setter (English, that is) total to three (the male stayed in Ann Arbor and we have visitation privileges). Maybe we will add a Lab if Mark breeds his other dog, Chase. There is probably room in the Suburban, but even it is getting a little tight.

Our pup's name is Albert, which is a fine name for a girl though it does require occasional explanation. Sort of like Roderick. Albert is all white like her Dad with a tan eye patch and tan ticking on her ears. She's laid back, affectionate, reasonably obedient and has a welcome propensity for keeping in touch when afield (at least so far--I know it's early yet).

She is quite promising and wonderful. And thanks to an honest young man named Mike Simonetti, she's still at home with us.

We usually spend Thanksgiving at the cabin on the North Branch and this year was no exception. Mark and his family were at their place nearby and our daughter Jenny and her family stayed with us. Jenny's family includes a nifty husband, two terrific (grand) sons and an elderly elk hound, too old now to run off as had been her youthful habit.

Throughout the late summer and autumn, my morning routine at the cabin was to feed the setters and let all three of them out to romp around while I fixed breakfast. They were seldom out of sight and never out of earshot. I let them out as usual on the Friday morning after Thanksgiving but there was a difference--Jenny's elk hound. As I puttered around the kitchen I caught an occasional glimpse of Harley or Two motoring around outside, but it belatedly occurred to me that I had not seen Albert (or the elk hound) for too long. Apparently the elk hound was not too old to run after all. No response to the whistle, so the search began.

They had been seen together near Kellogg Bridge at about 8:45 a.m. There was enough light snow to identify dog prints but their paths were hopelessly confused and tracking became impossible. At about 10:00 a.m. the elk hound returned to the cabin, but Albert was not with her. She was gone. At 10:30 a.m. I talked to a guy who said I had missed her by fifteen minutes going by his place. It was the last time she was seen on Friday, which was already high on my least-favorite-days list and would only get worse.

We canvassed Lovells Township, making nuisances of ourselves wherever there was a sign of occupancy. Probably we made 200 or so new friends. I called everybody I could think of every time I returned to the cabin in the hope that she had returned. We called our down-state vet because she was wearing a rabies tag with his phone number on it. We put signs in store windows. We kept moving and looking until dark. It was awful.

Saturday was more of the same, made worse by fears that Albert had encountered a hungry coyote. Bad images about such an encounter by a five-month-old trusting puppy flooded the mind.

At 4:00 p.m. the phone rang. Mary Ann was there to answer. It was Mike Simonetti whom I had met Friday afternoon while he and his buddy were erecting a bow-hunting tree stand. Mike is from Saginaw and was staying in a trailer at "Warbler's Hide-a-Way" about a mile north of our cabin. I'd given him the last four digits of our phone number, omitting the standard 348 prefix like people do around there because it is always 348, but Mike didn't know that. Nonetheless, he persevered from a pay phone until he got the combination and reached us. He had Albert! Much face-licking and tail wagging on her part. Tears on ours.

She had been gone thirty-two hours.

Postscript: I got the best note from Glen Sheppard. Here it is:

Dear Dick:
I'm pondering when, and whether, to get another bird dog. Nails has been to vet three times since bird season opened. And goes in again tomorrow.
Also question if this leg has another bird dog in it.
Now I discover you have developed a breakthrough strategy that speeds and simplifies training a pup.
When you find a few minutes, I'd sure appreciate details of your formula for using a wolfhound to train a bird dog. Can see headline now: "leading attorney, conservationist, pioneers use of trash hounds to train pointing dogs."
Whatta story!
In appreciation of your consideration,
Yrs--glen sheppard
RWOL

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